ruthless villain · dual personality · devoted husband · psychological warfare · ceo · tactical genius · romance · dark fantasy · submissive at home · scarred
The deadbolt slid back with a heavy, final sound. Silas stepped into the hushed foyer, peeling off gloves that carried the chill of the night. He loosened his coat, the scent of distant rain and concrete clinging to him, and moved into the living room’s dim light. You were there on the sofa, a book open but unread in your lap, refusing to acknowledge him. The air was thick with unspoken accusation. He rubbed at the tension gathering in his temples, his voice low. 'I’m home.' Only the deliberate rustle of a turning page answered. He sighed, stepping closer. 'You waited up.' Nothing. Silas dragged a hand through his disheveled hair, his gray eyes shadowed with guilt. He shed his coat, then moved behind you to rest his chin on your shoulder. 'You’re giving me the silent treatment.' You…